I'm Gonna Find My Way
by ILoVeWicked
Summary: Sequel to "Don't Put All of Your Eggs in One Basket". With new friendships, new babies, and new futures, everyone learns to find their way. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde the Musical.**

**Hey!! So here you have it, the first chapter to the sequel of Don't Put All of Your Eggs in One Basket!! I'll admit, I was shaky about it at first, and I flip-flopped my ideas around a lot for this, but thanks so much to those of you who requested the sequel, because after I wrote this first chapter, I grew attacthed again!! Hopefully it's up to your expectations!! Let me know what you think so far.**

**-ILoVeWicked **

**Elle**

I'd grown to hate our toilet. I really did.

Now, I couldn't even sit on our toilet, because let's face it, I was so huge I just might have just fallen off and hurt myself. That can never be a positive thing, especially when your kid was jumping on your bladder twenty-four-seven. When Brooke was around, she wasn't in the bathroom _half _as much as me, and I was sure of it. She never mentioned how annoying pregnancy could be. And neither did Vivienne _or _Paulette. If I wasn't in such a fragile condition, I would have hurt one of them.

I was two weeks past my due date to have my son. _Two weeks_. I should have had a baby two weeks ago. Caroline had come early, Danny had come right on time, and my kid, keeping to the pattern, decided to be late. I would have given anything to switch with Brooke or Vivienne at the moment.

And being two weeks late put me on bed rest. Me and bed rest didn't mix well together. I'd been off Redbull for far too long! In the time I had to sit in bed and not go to work, I'd watched every _Friends _episode _twice_, read every magazine in the house cover to cover, and knitted a very lopsided blanket for my son. Yet I was still bored and unsatisfied. I couldn't see the fairness in Emmett being able to work while I was forced to sit on our lumpy brown couch and do nothing.

I was aroused from my boredom when I heard Emmett come rushing through the door. I clapped my hands together, praying that he brought me home some food.

"Hey, Honey!" Emmett chirped as he removed his coat. He smirked and gestured toward my very large stomach. "Other Honey." I waved in response; the baby had suddenly decided to start kicking me, which made me lose the will to greet.

Emmett was about to step forward and give me a hug when the door swung back open and shoved my husband aside. Brooke, baby carrier slung around her forearm, whisked her way inside. She had apparently gotten past knocking and had somehow figured out where our spare key was located. How lucky was I? I wanted someone to ease my boredom, and I ended up getting three people.

"Hey!" Brooke breathed out as she, like the door, pushed Emmett aside and plopped down on the couch. She observed the beached whale residing beside her and bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. "Still haven't…um…popped, I see." I sent her a glare and she backed off.

"Cutting it a little close, Brooke. Remember how emotional_ you _were when you were pregnant? Elle's far worse, trust me. You're only welcome because you have the kid, now," Emmett grumbled as he fixed himself a drink. Clearly,I wasn't the _only _one getting anxious for this baby to arrive. Brooke smirked.

"Thanks, Emmett. I can sense the love in this room," she said through the smirk, her eyebrows raised into that face of hers I knew all too well. Emmett smiled sarcastically, raising his glass and taking a giant swig of his drink. God, I would have killed for an alcoholic beverage, anything to keep me from thinking about my sad, sad pregnancy fate.

"So, what brings you here today?" I asked groggily. This couch sure made me tired. I had just been too bored to notice it until that moment. Brooke shrugged as Caroline began crying.

"Boredom," she began. I snorted.

Ha! She thought _she _was bored. Try being on bed rest for two weeks, Miss Fitness Guru. Then we'll talk about boredom.

Brooke lifted her blotchy faced daughter from her carrier and began bouncing the baby in her lap. "And Car and I were going to head over to the park, but I forgot about my severe allergy to pollen. I figured you two live right across the street from Rosalyn, might as well pay my good old friends a visit."

By visit she meant the daily ritual of dropping in every day. Now that Brooke, Emmett and I were far closer than we had been before the whole 'Baby Mama' fiasco, she had decided to sell her late husband's mansion and use the money from that to move into a close by neighborhood. And by close by neighborhood I mean the neighborhood directly to the right of ours. Though we all know the big move was for Brooke to be closer to her friends, Brooke constantly denied it, saying that she didn't need that big of a house for two people.

"I wouldn't consider your allergy _severe,_ Brooke. You can still be outside during the springtime," Emmett retorted over Brooke's pollen issue. Brooke held up her free hand and looked at Emmett with wide eyes.

"Oh, so now we're a doctor?" Brooke asked. Emmett shut up after that and took another swig of mouthwatering tequila. I mentally smacked myself for drooling and beamed at my friend and her beautiful little girl.

At seven months old, Caroline Nicole was already a knock out. Pretty blonde hair, enchanting bright blue eyes, light freckles on her little rosy cheeks, easy sleeper, never cried too often, and an all around sweetheart…she made up every single mother's dream package. She was perfect, and we all knew it too. Lately, Brooke was always letting Emmett and I baby-sit Caroline, to help us get prepared for our child (and so Brooke could give herself some free time), and already I had learned so much from the little wonder.

I found it amazing how kids like Caroline and Danny could develop personalities so quickly. In a matter of seven quick months I could already determine that Caroline loved snuggling, anything girly or pink, and was a total Mommy's girl, and Danny only ate green foods, feared loud noise making cars, and was a master of destruction.

I attempted pitifully to sit up, but fell back onto the lumpy couch, the couch making a farting noise that made Caroline laugh. Brooke shrugged.

"She likes anything that makes embarrassingly weird noises. Just ask Emmett, he makes her laugh all the time," Brooke said jokingly, giving her daughter an Eskimo kiss. Emmett stuck his tongue out at her and made his way from the kitchen to the couch.

Caroline began fussing in Brooke's arms until Brooke finally let her down. The little girl gripped onto our coffee table and began teetering in my direction. My jaw flew wide open as Caroline wobbled to my side and reached out to be picked up.

"Omigod, Brooke! You didn't tell me she started walking! I had no idea!" I cheered as I lifted the baby up using all of my upper arm strength (In addition to growing personalities quickly, these kids grew in size quickly too. It seemed like a million years since Caroline was a five pound feather in my arms.) and balancing her on my giant belly. I look at Brooke, whose expression mirrored my previous one.

"Neither did I," Brooke choked out after getting over her shock. Emmett took another quick sip of his drink. Did he have to flaunt that tequila in my face like that? I peered up at Caroline, who was staring back at me with her piercing blue eyes. She obviously had no idea that she had just achieved greatness by taking her first steps.

"Hey, Girlie! Do you know what you just did?" I asked as I tried to look at the kid over my bump. Caroline simply cocked her head to the side cluelessly. Brooke beamed and clapped her hands together, letting the moment finally sink in.

"Holy sh—Caroline! You walked!" Brooke cried as she picked Caroline up from her perch on my stomach and began tickling her. Caroline squealed with delight and her tinny, golden giggle filled the room, sounding like a bell.

I smiled as I watched how happy Brooke and Caroline looked, despite the rocky roller coaster Brooke had been through before. That was going to be me some day, cheering for my son as he took his first steps. Granted he _came_.

As if on cue, I felt a relieving gush of water between my legs. In my time of bed rest, I had read _Parenting Magazine _enough to know what that meant. My head shot up to look at my husband and friend.

"Guys," I began happily. "My water broke."

We were out the door in less than five minutes due to the fact that we had been ready for this moment two weeks ago.

I suddenly didn't hate the toilet as much any more. But I still hated that couch.

**LEGALLYBLONDETHEMUSICAL**

And now here he was, that same patient baby, reciting his vows to his bride and slipping the engraved wedding band onto her finger. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo, his hair gelled back. I dabbed my flowing mascara tears with Emmett's jacket sleeve as I gripped onto Brooke's hand. Weddings always made me emotional, and the emotions hit a whole new level as I watched my only child getting married.

It was a moment to be cherished, surely, and the fact that my son was marrying Brooke's daughter made it even more magical. Evan's daughter and flower girl Ava fidgeted in my lap as the preacher pronounced that my son may "kiss the bride". The whole church roared with excitement as they flung rice at the newly married couple.

I observed as the whole event seemed to play in slow motion. Evan's face was brighter than I ever remembered it being, and he was always a happy kid. I had always known he had a major crush on Caroline since…well…_forever_, and having his dreams come true, it was the most wonderful feeling a mother could ever experience. I looked over at Brooke and over at Emmett automatically knew that they were feeling the same thing too. Though Brooke and Emmett would never openly admit it to each other, they had always secretly wanted their kids to end up together just as much as I did.

For twenty-five years, I was the only girl in Evan Forrest's life. Now I had to share him with two other girls: Ava and Caroline. I didn't mind it though. Seeing him happy with the same little girl who had taken her first steps on my son's birthday so many years ago was all I needed to insure that Evan was in safe hands.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

**I'll update sooner for reviews in return! (Hint, hint...) Thanks!**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Vivienne**

Danny was the single most wonderful thing that could have ever happened to me. If I had been asked eight years ago, when I was still a law student, if I wanted to ever have kids, I would have answered no as fast as I could. Now, I never would have imagined saying no to such a life changing question. I loved my son too much.

I stood beside Danny's crib, my hand trailing along the finely carved wooden rail. Danny lay sleeping on his stomach, his tiny head turned to the side. He looked so peaceful as he slept, making a smile creep across my face. Despite the fact that he _looked _peaceful, I, as a new and unsure mother, couldn't help but worry that something was going to happen to him.

Kirk somehow found my paranoia funny, and always joked that the second I turned my back, Danny would jump from his crib. As much as I loved the man, I could never understand how he thought that was funny. When Danny leapt from the crib and hurt himself, I hoped Kirk felt guilty for making fun of me. I really, truly hope he did.

The music that Danny's mobile emitted was soothing to me as I ran my hand over his soft, furry head of brown hair and began humming the familiar tune. He was my son in so many ways. He already had the physical features that were closer to me than Kirk, and he had the same little attitude I had when I was his age.

I almost screamed when I felt a hand firmly grip onto my shoulder. See, this was the kind of thing I was referring to. Now there was some psychopathic serial killer behind me. Nervously, I craned my neck around and let out a sigh of relief—or more of a huff of frustration if you will—when I saw Kirk's smiling face. So much for psychopath.

"Viv, it's three o' clock in the morning. What the heck are you still doing up so late? You have work tomorrow," Kirk stage-whispered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. There was really no need to whisper at all, since Danny could sleep through a third world war and never know what had happened.

Honestly, I didn't want to go to work. If I had the option to, I'd stay beside my son's crib all day and watch him sleep peacefully to the soothing sounds of the mobile.

"I just…I watch him sleep sometimes. I get scared something's going to happen to him," I admitted. When I said it aloud, it sounded a whole lot less emotional and a whole lot more clingy. Kirk chuckled and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

"You're so adorable, but you know, as much as I wish we could, we're not going to be able to watch over him forever." I sighed in agreement and ran my hand over Danny's rising and falling back.

"I know," was all I replied with before Kirk retired back to bed and I took a seat in Danny's rocking chair, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the music. I watched him sleep for the rest of the night.

In short, I loved Danny and Kirk more than anything. Law and money and all of that other stuff that used to be important to me didn't even matter. Family was the number one priority in my life. All I had to do was see my son smile, or even just blink, and I knew that my life was worth it. This little guy depended on me, and I wasn't about to let him down as a mother.

**LEGALLYBLONDETHEMUSICAL**

I watched over him for as long as I could. I watched him grow from an adorable little baby to a sporty, friendly, happy kid, to an intelligent teenager who knew the difference between good and bad decisions, unlike his friends. And then, in the blink of an eye, my son, Daniel, grew into an intelligent, handsome medical school graduate.

I watched him as he cheered along with his fellow graduates, throwing his black cap into the air. Through the sea of black hats and yellow tussles, I spotted Danny again, his youth flashing before me. For a moment, I saw the same, toothy kindergartener who had gotten so excited over his new lunchbox in his wide smile. He laughed, and I saw the little infant I used to watch over at night. He bounded from the stage to me, and I saw the same goofy teenager who was so proud over making the cut on the school baseball team.

You know what Dan told me when he decided to go to medical school under the neonatal department and we had asked him why he would want to stoop to Doctor Grosse's level? He simply said that he wanted to give babies the same lucky chance with their mother as he had with me. I literally broke down, dropped to my knees, and started crying. It was the sweetest thing my son had ever done for me, and no macaroni necklace could compare.

Daniel flung his arms, his graduation gown draped loosely over them, around my neck and cried, "I did it!" For a moment, I heard myself when I had graduated from law school, and I thought of the bright future ahead of my son, just like the world had granted for me. I was certain that one day Danny would have a baby of his own, and he would completely understand just how far 'I did it!' can go.

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I whispered, "Yeah, you did."

**So there you have it, chapter two! Sorry the update wasn't as speedy...it's just been a long, horrible, stressful week (I'd go into detail but then I'd probably bore you all to death) for me so far and today was the first time I had five minutes of free time to update. I hope you enjoyed Vivienne's chapter...she's another one of those toughies to write for me, so hopefully I didn't butcher her character too badly. Thanks for reading. Also, thanks for reviewing last chapter to Julez Rox and IAmNowACheckerBoardChick! C'mon, people...I'm giving you your sequel...a little more feedback would be very appreciated! :) I'll try to update as soon as I can...but now it's off to practice for the million performances I have...which would be fun if I didn't have to also study for the million tests I have. Yippee.**

**-ILoVeWicked**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Caroline**

When I was three, I used to pray for a father. The only thing I had to enable my thoughts about him was an old, folded up magazine page where he had modeled. Mom only let me look at him. Whenever I brought the topic of Warner up, Mom would just change the subject and walk away.

I was three, I couldn't have possibly understood why he wasn't around. I didn't care if he was mean or nasty, I just wanted a father for the sake of having one. My whole three years of existence, I had always felt like something was missing, and I knew that something was a father. Someone I could call 'Daddy' and get into fights with and watch football games with. I did that stuff with my mom, but it never felt the same.

I had only begun to actually appreciate my mother when I actually _met _my father for the first time. He had come in with a flourish without any warning to my mom, whipping his glasses off and striking a pose like some freak of nature. Great, I asked for a father, and I got Christian Siriano. When he looked at me, his eyes widened and his smirk twisted into a frown.

I'll never forget the look on his face. It was almost as if he hated me even more than he did when he left me. I quickly pulled my blonde curls from the ponytail they had been in and hid behind the curtain of hair. This man wasn't at all like the father I had dreamt about…at all. The father I had longed for would have scooped me up in his arms and actually _smiled_ at the sight of me.

So far, he wasn't keeping to the distinct fantasy I had planned for this day when it came. He made his way past me, actually shoved aside a three-year-old, and sneak-attacked my mother. I'll never forget the look on her face either. Her face twisted in rage and grew bright red. Her mouth drew into a thin, red line.

"What the heck are _you_ doing here?" I remember hearing my mother seethe. I put together the look on her face and the sound of her voice, and automatically, I knew that my mother hated this man. My alleged father shrugged.

"I wanted to see what she looked like," he told her in a deep, seductive voice. At least he didn't _sound _like Christian Siriano. Mom placed her hands on her hips.

"I've sent you pictures of her. And she has a name. You of all people should know, since you named her," she shot back. I felt my hand reach up and wrap my fingers around my locket, my name engraved on the gold heart that opened up to a picture of Mom and I. He had named me. My father had named me. It was the best feeling to know that he cared enough to give me a name.

"I'm beginning to think you don't want me here," Dad began, his voice rising as he grew more agitated. The high feeling quickly dissipated as my mom shook her head.

"I don't, Warner. Caroline is _three. _Do you have any idea how much she's asked about you? How much she's been dying to meet you? It would crush her if you just gave her false hope and left again," Mom hissed. My father shrugged coolly and leaned against our kitchen counter, and I struggled forward to get a better view at what was to be the first of many times I saw or heard my parents fight.

"Who said anything about leaving? What if I'm here to give you another chance?" Warner asked calmly, as if he had Mom in the palm of his hand. By the look on my mother's face, it looked like she didn't want to be anywhere near that hand.

"At what, Warner? Marrying you? Believe me, marrying you is the last thing on my mind right now. I'm raising Caroline pretty well all by myself."

"_Pretty well_ isn't gonna get that kid anywhere in life! Newsflash, Brooke: you _can't _raise a kid _by yourself_! You're not smart enough!"

If possible, Mom's expression tensed up even more. "Get out," she muttered bitterly. Warner looked confused, like he _just _realized that his _brilliant _plan to show up three years late and give my mother time to cool off had failed.

"What?"

"You're getting out of my house, and you're not going to say a word to _my _daughter," my mom told him firmly through gritted teeth. "_Now_." Warner opened his mouth to say something, but quickly glared at my mother as he turned on his heels and strode towards the front door.

Scratch that. Not towards the front door. Towards _me_.

I felt myself freeze all over as he bent down to be eye level with me. In his face, I could see some of the features I had acquired from him. That's when I decided that I may have had those features, but they didn't make me anything like him. He smiled wickedly, which sent an icy shiver down my spine.

"Hey, Caroline," he whispered soothingly. "I'm your _father_. And I'll be back." With that final message, he slammed the door and drove away in his cherry red Ferrari.

That night, Mom let me have ice cream and candy for dinner, and she let me stay up way past my bedtime to watch movies with her. I was still too young to understand why, though. Neither I nor my mother said a word the rest of the night. And when she tucked me into bed, the only light source my nightlight, I could feel something wet on my cheek when my mother bent down to kiss me.

She was crying, and I had no idea why she was crying.

So I cried too, which only made her hug me so tight I almost suffocated.

"I love you," Mom cried into my soft blonde hair, never letting go of me. I had never seen my mother so weak and so vulnerable. I had never even seen her cry. It scared me to see her making those horrible noises. Finally, she pulled away from me and grabbed my little shoulders. "I love you so much."

Even though I couldn't see her face, I finally understood everything. The ice cream, staying up late, the way she was crying so hard, it all made sense to me now. I reached out in the darkness, searching for the tears, and wiped them from my mother's face.

"I don't need a daddy, Momma," I whispered. "All I need to make me happy is you." At the time, I had no idea why that made her cry harder and hug me again. I thought that saying those things, how I really felt at the time about my parents, would make her _stop_ crying.

All I knew was that when I fell asleep in my mother's arms that night, I, for the first time, felt complete.

**LEGALLYBLONDETHEMUSICAL**

The more my father came back, the more I hated him. Every year, he would only show up twice: once on Christmas and once on my birthday. As I grew older, I comprehended more and more of the situation and I despised him for what he did and what he was still doing to us.

I made a vow on my fifteenth birthday, after my father slammed the door and sped away, that I would never let my children have a dad like mine. I promised myself that I would make the right choice with the guy that would never torture me like Warner tortured my mother.

Evan was that promise. He was my savoir. Thinking of him was the only way I could keep myself from crying when I read every positive pregnancy test. I was having baby with my best friend at the very young age of twenty-three, and if it weren't for the security of knowing that Evan was my baby's father, I would have been scared to death. What would Evan say? We had agreed that we were eventually going to have children, but I had kind of thought that 'eventually' would mean far after we had gotten married.

I was pretty sure he'd faint or choke on his sandwich or something along those lines when I told him. Most men did, but Evan's reaction was slightly more dramatic than other guys' antics at surprising news. He was Evan, for pink's sake, and _Emmett_ _Forrest_ was his father. He was bound to be adorably clumsy and awkward when finding out the news of his first child.

Worse than Evan's reaction, I dreaded thinking what my mother would say. Would this whole 'accidental' thing be too much of a de ja vu for her? Mom and I were too close to keep secrets from one another, and this was too nuclear of a secret to keep. I was going to have to find out what she thought, one way or another. Mom was fragile when it came to me, and the last thing I wanted to do was break her. I mean, I was already engaged as it was. Adding a baby to the list in addition to me getting ready to move out may have just made her snap.

I quietly pondered down the steps to the living room, where my mother could be seen, glasses drooping from her nose and hands in her tussled hair. Great, it was tax season too. I was literally awaiting my death. My mother was rabid when it came to taxes, what would she do when she found out that I had gotten into the situation she had gotten herself into twenty-three years ago?

Well, it wasn't _exactly _the same. I mean, I loved Evan, and we were engaged. My mother hated Warner, and my conception was just a one night stand between two old acquaintances. That had to count as a big difference, right?

Finally, I gulped, took a deep breath, and asked, "Mom?" It came out as more of a squeak than a confident statement. My mother's head shot up, and instantly, she sensed the severity of the situation I was in.

"What's wrong, Honey?" Mom asked, her eyes locking with mine and searching my face for any trace of a breakdown. I had practiced how I would keep it together separately for both Evan and my mother's reactions, I had both bits scripted and everything. But the second I brought my gaze to face Mom's, I cracked. I totally took after my father in the coward department.

"I'm pregnant, Mom," I sputtered out, the salty tears already pouring from my eyes. For the longest dramatic pause that made me want to lie down and die, my mother was silent, her face expressionless and pale. I had expected her to scream or smack me or send me to my room, anything but what she did. To my dismay and utter shock, she smiled, of all the possible reactions! I couldn't believe her.

"That's great!" Mom cheered before getting up to attempt to hug me. That was before I pushed her away in confusion, rage, and hormonal stress.

"No, it's not great! I'm not supposed to be pregnant! And you're not supposed to be happy for me!" I screamed. My mother's eyebrow shot up.

"I'm not?" Mom asked. The smile on her face clearly indicated that she was toying with my fragile emotional state, which only made me angrier.

"No! You're supposed to get mad at me for being so stupid! You're supposed to yell at me for making the same mistake you did! You've given _everything _up for me! The mansion, the fitness empire, everything, and I didn't even say thank you for half of the things you did for me! And now I've screwed up the game plan for Evan and I and you're supposed to hate me for it because I ruined everything for you!"

My mom laughed and tossed a chunk of blonde hair behind my shoulder. "Sweetie, I could never be mad at you, and you screwed absolutely nothing up. You love Evan, right?"

"Well, duh, Mom! I'm marrying the guy!" I remarked sarcastically, making her chuckle softly to herself.

"Then there's not a doubt in my mind that I should be happy for you. You didn't do anything wrong by getting pregnant with your fiancé, Honey. Sure, having a baby now wasn't exactly what you thought was going to happen, but take it from a girl who knows that everything doesn't exactly go how you plan for it to sometimes. And yeah, I gave up a lot, but I had a choice to give it all up. I chose to get rid of them to make myself a better mother to you, so that you could be enjoying your life so much that you wouldn't even need to thank me. I was miserable with what I had before I sold everything. The fitness empire was losing money, and the mansion was seriously too big for two people, anyway. They were just material things. Nothing could ever compare to the most valuable thing in my life."

"What's that?" I blurted out. We really didn't own anything _too _valuable, except maybe my locket. My mom beamed.

"You, Kiddo. You are and always will be the number one priority in my life."

She pulled me, still sobbing, against her chest and rested her head on mine.

"And for the record," she whispered into my bright blonde hair that was identical to hers, "You weren't a part of my game plan, but I'll never regret having you for a daughter. You may not understand it now, but that baby is going to make your life so much more wonderful, just like you made my life. You'll see."

She kissed the top of my head, and the two of us grabbed a quart of ice cream and watched a few home movies, for old time's sake.

I was still classified as fatherless, but with my mom at my side, chowing down on Rocky Road ice cream and cracking up with me at some of the stupid stuff we used to do, I was satisfied with being fatherless.

My mother, Brooke Wyndham, made me who I am today, and who I'll be forever, and no father could ever change that.

**Girl power! I tried twisting some of Elle and Brooke's personalities together for Caroline...cause she just struck me as that type of kid, so hopefully you enjoyed Caroline. She was a lot of fun to write for. In case it hasn't caught on by now, or in case the format of this story is confusing you at all, the theme I'm trying to get at with my writing is having each character reflect on a significant point in their lives after "Eggs", and then zoom into the future and show how they've "found their way". Hopefully you find that interesting...because I'm not gonna lie...I thought I was the coolest thing when I figured out how I was going to write this! :)**

**So, in other news, the week of evil is over, and I'm so much happier again that I have free time to update and thank you all for everything! The reviews I got last chapter really cheered me up! You guys are amazing! Keep reading and reviewing!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**PS-For safety purposes....I don't own Christian Siriano, either. I highly doubt I would enjoy hearing "Fierce!" everywhere I went.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde the Musical.**

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while with updating this story...but my show's final week is this week (whoo!), school has been killer, and then the login thing on this site wasn't working on my computer for a few days. Anyways, hope you enjoy this next installment. There's one chapter left so I'll get it up ASAP! Review, review, review!**

**-ILoVeWicked**

**Brooke**

It was no secret any more that my mother and I never got along. We just didn't understand each other, and that never changed throughout our lives. She was a pitiful drug and alcohol addict who had become jealous of me because I made something of myself. She would always ridicule me, no matter what it was. With every criticism she sent toward me, the strain between us became stronger. It came to a point in my life when I didn't feel like it was even safe to breathe around her without getting told I was doing it wrong.

When I was fourteen years old, I clearly remembered a time when I seriously considered lying about being an orphan.

I was home from school—alone, naturally; I had to provide dinner for myself almost every night that month—diligently working on my homework. Mom had recently told me that I would never make it to college, and I was desperate to prove her wrong and smite her. So I was diligently scribbling down variables when she burst through the back door, the scent of alcohol and trouble wafting in my direction. She staggered toward me, slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter, and began fixing herself something to eat.

When she felt my eyes on her she whirled around. "What?" she hissed. The way she addressed her own daughter got me so upset I almost snapped the pencil I was gripping in half. I shrugged.

"Nothing." I watched as she devoured her half a piece of bread (As convinced as she was that she was on Jenny Craig, I think we both knew that she was anorexic) and reached into her purse. Mom fished out her obnoxiously vibrant purple lipstick that I hated and lathered her lips with a thick coat of it. I swallowed the waxy lump in my throat and asked, "You going somewhere?"

She looked up at me, her blue eyes that once matched with my own locking with my gaze. If there was anything physical I was grateful for obtaining from Mom, it had to be her eyes. They were the prettiest bright blue at one point, the eyes that would attract plenty of males due to her excess musty eye shadow that made her eyes pop out. Over the years, though, the eyes had faded to a lifeless gray, like an old photograph. Mom nodded.

"Yeah. And I probably won't be back until tomorrow. It's a business meeting," she lied as she stuffed her lipstick back in her crowded purse. I didn't dare look in that thing. I was certain that I would find all of her drugs, flasks, needles, gawky make-up, and men's phone numbers. But I _did_ dare to open my mouth and start arguing with her.

"No you're not. You're going out to some stupid club to get high and drunk and sleep with some disgusting sleezeball of a man," I retorted. Mom's upper lip twitched slightly. She knew I was right, and I was satisfied about that.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered, taken aback by my previous comment. I stifled my sarcastic laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Oh, please, Mom. I think I'm old enough to know that you're _not _going on a business meeting. Nobody is that stupid to hire an addict." I added the last part under my breath while she examined her skin-tight black dress--which still managed to hang loosely off of her skeletal body--thoroughly. Mom looked back up at me and sighed defeatedly, as if I had really done a good job at foiling her master plan.

"Okay…so I'm going on a date…"

I groaned loudly and threw my hands up in the air. "Of course! You know, you have a _kid_! A kid who would like to see her mother for more than a half hour a week!" Despite the fact that I could get along pretty well without her around and that I actually enjoyed my mother's lack of company, the same whining that I used to use when I was eight took over. It felt childish, but I just wanted my mother that night. Was that so much to ask? My mom rolled her eyes. She had heard the same speech over and over, and I could tell that she was not in the mood to hear it again that night.

But that didn't stop my big mouth from running. She grabbed her purse, swung it over her brittle shoulder, and headed for the exit.

"Why do you have to go?" I half-whined, half-pleaded as I followed her to the door. "It's not fair!" Normally, at this point in the argument, she would just slam the door in my face without a word. Unexpectedly, she turned around, her eyes blazing.

"You know what's unfair, Brooke?" she screamed in my face. "Having a kid at my age, when I should be enjoying myself and not worrying about you, is unfair! Not being able to see my family ever again, or to not have enough money for myself, is unfair! So you can just shut up and leave me alone and let me do whatever it is I want to do! You've ruined my life already enough by being born, and I don't need you to make my life any worse! Ugh, I swear! Sometimes you make me want to...to..."

For my sake, I blocked out all of the curse words and despicable names she called me during that rant.

But nothing could block what happened next.

Her balled up fist was flying towards my face, like a bullet. I cringed and awaited that first punch that would set her off and turn her into a physically abusive mother rather than a verbally abusive one, which I would have preferred. I squinted my eyes open slightly to reveal her frail, ghostly hand, inches away from my nose. My mother looked just as horrified with herself as I did. She shook her head in disbelief, and for a moment, I saw a look of hatred in her eyes for someone other than me. She hated herself.

Finally, she gathered her things back up in a flourish and explained that she had to go to her meeting, and for me to get my homework done.

After I obeyed her commands, I looked back down at my homework, which to my surprise, looked blurry. My hand flew to my eyes, where my glasses were sitting in place, until I realized that tears were blocking my vision. For the first time, I had actually felt connected with my mother, and that moment was when she almost attempted to hurt me.

And I think I hated her more than she hated herself that night, which had to be a hard thing to accomplish.

I didn't see her for the rest of the night, or the day after that, or the day after that. When she came home, she was drunk and high and covered in blotchy make up. Neither of us said a word about that night ever again. I didn't even have the nerve to mention it to Emmett when she was resting in her grave.

I'd like to think that she sent Warner to Joe's Bar that night on purpose. She wanted to sabotage me with an unplanned daughter. She wanted me to feel the same pain she had felt when I was born. As much as I would like to say I hated her for it…I'd be completely lying.

No, not everything went as smoothly with Caroline as I had hoped for it to be, and being a single mother was way harder than jumping rope for ten years of my life. Sometimes, I felt the same emotions as Mom probably did when Caroline would protest or disobey me, but I made it through. Even at the toughest of times, when Caroline was just being a pain in my butt, I loved her more than anything, and I never felt even the slightest urge to hurt her. She was my baby, my sweet little girl, and she deserved every ounce of unconditional love I had never gotten to use with my own mother.

Peacefully sleeping and curled up against her wall of stuffed animals, I watched her dream one night. Vivienne had always talked about how magical watching Danny sleep was when he was an infant, and I had always sided with Kirk on teasing her for it. But the truth was, it _was_ magical watching your daughter smile while she slept, or watch her toss and turn. One night, she caught me red-handed in the act, her eyes fluttering open.

"What's wrong, Mama?" she asked. I looked at her innocent blue eyes, her mangled blonde hair, and her tiny eight-year-old body and shook my head.

"Nothing. Just wanted to tell you I love you," I replied before hugging her tightly and rocking her back to sleep.

**LEGALLYBLONDETHEMUSICAL**

In the blink of an eye, my little girl grew up. She was dressed to the nines in a strapless, sparkly, flowing royal blue gown she had picked out, her hair in subtle curls and her make-up applied perfectly. She was a vision, destined to win prom queen, much to my dismay.

Prom queens made me think of my mother, who had gotten herself into pagentry when she was younger and automatically expected me to stoop to that level. When I didn't come home Prom Queen, I had gotten a mouthful that I really didn't deserve. It wasn't my fault that I wasn't as beautiful as other girls, and I had explained that and the fact that I didn't want to be prom queen. In my eyes, it was nothing but unesscessary attention, but to her, it was everything to be loved by strangers. The Prom Queen disagreement was just one of the millions of differences I had with my Mom.

It was only fair that I took a million pictures of her and her date for the night, Sean, the football captain. Caroline rolled her eyes in between flashes and protested that cool parents didn't do this kind of embarrassing stuff. I was entitled to be a little lame now and then. This was my kid's senior prom, and years from now, she would thank me for being a dorky mother. I know if my mother had bothered to take pictures of me on my prom night, I would have been grateful. Sean remained silent, but I could tell I would be the subject of some of his jokes that night just by the way he would send sideward glances to my daughter.

Evan Forrest sat, watching longingly on the staircase. He and Caroline had planned to go together as friends in his car, but naturally, some jock with a limosine had asked her out last minute. If anyone was allowed to be embarrassed, it should have been Evan.

I snapped the last photo and waved off my daughter, receiving a happy squeal and a perky good-bye from Caroline and her date as they bounded off to join some other popular kids in the limo. Evan followed reluctantly, creating the image that his feet were as heavy as two cinderblocks. Before he could leave I grabbed his shoulder.

He looked at me with sad gray eyes that looked exactly like Elle's, and I sent him a small wink and a reassuring squeeze. "You know, you just need to give her some time to come around, Buddy," I told him. "She's not as mature as you are yet." Evan quickly shook his head. He was apperantly unaware that I had known about his crush since Caroline was seven.

"It's okay, Brooke," he lied. I shook my head.

"It's not okay, Evan. She didn't take the time to even notice that the best prom date she could have asked for was the one who made the pact to go to the senior prom with her when she was ten, but she'll notice in time. Just let her run out of football players, first," I joked, getting a small laugh out of the kid. He looked from his corsage her had gotten Caroline that she didn't bother wearing to me.

"How do you _know_?" he asked. He was the son of two lawyers, straight out answers were the only things he knew. I patted him lightly on the back.

"I've known the both of you for your entire lives. I think it's safe to say I _know_ true love when I see it." The limo honked from outside.

"C'mon, Ev!" Caroline cried, hanging out the limo window.

"Go. Have fun. And be patient," I told him before sending him out the door and watching the limo disappear into the night.

Caroline did eventually thank me for taking all those pictures. And when we were in private at Evan and Caroline's wedding reception, Evan thanked me for knowing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Legally Blonde the Musical. So just let me be…legally… BRUNETTE! ~sobs over the fact that I am not blonde like Elle/do not own LBtM~ **

** Hey, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to update (again), but school/life has kept me super-busy and it's finally spring break, which means I had time to write! So, this story is over for good...~sobs~! I'm not going to create a thrid part to this, but let me just say that writing the sequel was a lot of fun and I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed it! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter! Review one last time for these stories and make my day! :) Thanks so much to everyone! Till next time! **

**-ILoVeWicked **

**Emmett **

When Brooke gave birth to Caroline, I distinctly remember that look on her face. The second Brooke laid eyes on her daughter, her tense face softened and her loopy smile would have scared anyone if they didn't know what she was smiling about. It was the same way I smiled at Elle, and the same way my mother used to look at me.

That indescribable look on Brooke's face was the look of true love for her daughter.

It perplexed me, though, that Brooke fell in love so quickly with Caroline. I could not wrap my head around how a screaming, bloody, gooey, infant could make even the unhappiest of people fall back into love. The whole time Elle was pregnant, I often wondered if I would feel that same connection with my kid. After all, it was Elle who had been carrying him around extra long, not me.

As the months drew nearer to the due date, I began to question myself more. Some nights, I even went sleepless tossing and turning over my doubts. Would I be a good father, or would I turn out like the others? My father walked away, Warner walked away…but I didn't plan on walking away any time soon. But I was Emmett. Worry was my middle name.

Finally, that fateful day came, and the birth of my son, if possible, was longer than Caroline's had been. Elle sweated and screamed and cursed and grunted her whole way through the entire thing, while I remained unconscious half the time. Since it was _my _child we were dealing with this time around, I was bound to be a little whoosy. Brooke, Elle's labor coach while I was knocked out, found the whole thing to be hysterical. Me, Elle, and even Doctor Grosse, wanted this labor to be done and over with as soon as possible, and the jokes was using to enlighten the mood helped absolutely none. I would have kicked her out, but she was too good of a labor coach to get rid of, and who knows how many more times I would faint.

It was when I awoke after an hour long faint that I heard a baby cry. _My _baby's cry. I shot up like a bullet, almost knocking over the nurse that had been fanning me off, and darted to Elle's side. She was breathing heavily. Her eyes were drooping and far off looking as she never took her eyes off of the beautiful baby boy Doctor Grosse was handling, yet somehow, she managed to find my hand and squeeze it with all of the energy she had left.

"We've got a son," she whispered.

"We've got a son," I repeated, following her gaze. Doctor Grosse had finished his business and placed little Evan Christian Forrest (A name Elle had chosen so that we would all have names that started with 'E'. Christian was her great-uncle's name.) in my wife's arms. The doctor announced that he was nine pounds even, my chubby little guy, and sixteen inches. Finally, something I had beaten Brooke at!

Thinking of her, I looked up at Brooke, who had tears streaming down her face. She breathed out a smile and wiped them away, never pulling her gaze away from our fidgeting miracle. "He's beautiful, you guys!" she cheered quietly. "Congratulations. You _both _did a great job."

I smiled myself and noticed that Elle was crying. Tears of joy poured down her sweaty cheeks as she admired our son's flawless face.

"Hey, Sweetheart, I'm your mommy," Elle whispered. "And this guy right here," she continued, yanking my shirt and pulling me closer to her, "is your very caring, amazing, handsome, goofy daddy. And this lady…" She yanked Brooke down to her knees as well. "Is your god-mother, Brooke."

Brooke looked up at me, her eyebrows knit in confusion. I know she had expected Paulette or Vivienne to be the god-mother of our son, but Elle and I had our reasoning. Someone who had been with us from the _very _beginning to the end of this pregnancy deserved a special recognition, and I made sure she understood that in my nod.

"And we all love you so, so much little guy!" By that point, I was bawling, too.

That night, after all the visitors had gone and Elle was finally able to get some sleep, I stayed up. I sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room that Paulette had gotten Kyle to build for us and held my baby boy in my arms.

His pink lip began to quiver, and he began to whimper. I began to panic, but then decided that it would help neither of us if I fainted again. Instead, I just held him up a little closer to my face. Evan began to play with my nose, which meant I was in the clearing.

Brooke was right all along. There was no way to describe true love. It was just one of those things that were too great to decipher. But it wasn't very difficult to figure out when you were feeling it. It was the best feeling in the world.

I had a son, and it didn't feel weird at all. There were no nervous feelings, or urges to run away. I wasn't going anywhere, not when I had the best of friends, an amazing son, and the beautiful, adorable, smart Elle Woods as my wife.

"Hey, Evan," I whispered, "It's me, Daddy. I love you and your mom more than words can describe, and I'm going to try my best to never, ever going to let you down as a father."

**LEGALLYBLONDETHEMSUICAL**

Before I knew it, Evan was six years old and whirling a baseball in my direction. I caught the ball with my mitt, feeling the smack of the leather against my palm, and threw it back to Evan, who repeated the process. I was glad to see he had taken an interest in baseball rather than chess, which is what I had done at his age.

It was a beautiful spring day outside amongst a weeks-worth of rain, so we had decided to take advantage of the nice weather by having a picnic at Rosalyn Park. Brooke, Elle, and Caroline were setting up the food just a few feet away from us. Aromas of Elle's cooking haunted my nostrils. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, children all around us, including Caroline and Evan, were laughing. It was the perfect day.

It was, at least, until my clumsy aim sent the baseball into the bushes, ruining me and Evan's game of catch. Evan smiled toothily, for he, a klutz as well, understood my pain, and shrugged.

"It's okay, Daddy, I got it!"

Just as he bounded off toward the trail, a tall blonde girl came riding up on a bright blue bike. Our Red Sox baseball sat in the basket of her bike, which read 'Angie' in vibrant pink lettering. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping as the girl tossed the ball back to my son, who thanked her. I knew this girl.

"Angie?" I asked, receiving a skeptic look from the girl. Clearly, the little girl from the Kate and Carl Grey trial had no idea who I was and was in fear for her life. Elle looked up from her spot on the picnic blanket. Her eyes told me that she remembered Angie as well.

I decided to not scare the girl any longer. "You may not remember me…my wife and I were your mother's lawyer…"

"In the divorce trial," Angie finished. Her green eyes became excited. "Oh, yeah! I remember you!" She laughed slightly as she propped her bike up on its kickstand. If I was counting correctly, she should have been almost thirteen. "It's good to see you again!"

"How are your parents?" I asked, feeling obligated to do so. Angie rolled her eyes.

"My parents are…well, my parents. My Bat Mitzvah's coming up, so they've had to spend a little more time together than they wanted." I grinned in understanding. Angie looked away for a moment and began to staple a flyer to a tree behind Evan. I scanned the flyer, reading that Angie was opening a baby-sitting service in order to earn more money. I sent her a smile.

"You know, the wife and I are headed to an anniversary party tonight, adults only," I told her, heavily hinting at what I was trying to get at. Angie understood completely and beamed.

"I'll send Evan over at around seven," I said with a wink. Angie hopped back on her bike, still grinning. I suppose this was her first gig, though I knew somehow that Evan was in trusted hands. I had always liked little Angie Grey.

"Thanks so much, Mister Forrest!" she called over her shoulder as she rode away. I noted how I hadn't even said my name once that whole conversation. I guess the people who help you can really make an imprint in your life.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Brooke asked. "Do I have something in my teeth? You've been looking at me weirdly for like three minutes." I hadn't realized that. Elle brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, me too. Are you okay, honey?" she called. Shrinking into a crimson blush, I shrugged.

"Yeah. Just thinking, that's all," I replied.

"Daddy? Daddy! C'mon! Let's play some more catch!" Evan shouted, already tossing the baseball. I caught it with a flourish and continued with our catch, thinking of just how lucky of a guy I was to have so many people change my life positively.

We had all come so far, and we still had so much more to accomplish, but more or less, we had all found our way.


End file.
